


Farewell to Abigail

by fwraun



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs Dies, Again, Fishing and Murder, Memory Palace, One Shot, Other, Post-Season/Series 03, Will is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29284740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fwraun/pseuds/fwraun
Summary: Abigail gives a last goodbye to Will in his memory palace.
Relationships: Will Graham & Abigail Hobbs
Kudos: 2





	Farewell to Abigail

**Author's Note:**

> I have this idea of Will kills everyone in his memory palace that I found dramatic and cool and it keeps me writing.  
> Enjoy.

Yellows and greens and blues all shimmering over the stream, his favorite place to be, as now and every time he closes his eyes. Not a single voice is audible except his own breathing. But not long, for that other voices come one by one. Burble of the stream, whistle of the breeze, chirps of the birds respectively. His palace builds up slowly, for he wants to make sure everything is in order.

For everything must look and feel perfect.

He finds himself holding a fishing rod after he makes sure his five-senses are working. It’s like the first time he refuged this place. Refuged from going crazy in a prison cell after days and days of stability and apprehension. He casts the fly.

His eyes scan the surface of the water to see a particular motion, just to stop where the bait has disappeared. There is no movement other than the stream of the stream, but he knows he’ll eventually lure his prey as long as he’s patient.

“Is it time?” Abigail asks.

Will jerks from his place as he looks at her.

“What…”

“What took you so long?” A moment of disorientation, then he remembers why he came here.

“I’ve been… blinded by a tranquil daydream,” he says. “You were there too.”

“I’m sure I was. I was also here, as long as you’ve existed.”

“Oh… sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t really get bored.” Her silk, brown hair is combed with a ponytail. She wears a cute bucket hat over her head and holds a fishing rod in her hands, just like Will does. “I’ve had tons of chances to practice while you were away. Look, I can cast the fly much further.” 

She does as she says, with an additional elegance. “Well it doesn’t matter…” Her mouth twists ruefully.

“Are you bitter about your death?” Will grimaces.

“You’re the one who’s bitter about it,” Abigail argues. “I’m already dead, so,” she shrugs. “I’ve been dead since the day my dad killed me and my mom–

“No,” Will cuts in. “We saved you that day, me and Hannibal.”

“Did you?” _Do you really think you did?_ It’s a surprisingly genuine question. Will takes a moment to think as they both gaze at the stream.

“I never caught any fish here,” Abigail says. “Even though I’m pretty confident about my technique now.”

“It’s because there isn’t any,” Will answers. “I never caught either.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t it… pointless?”

“It’s relaxing,” he shrugs, then he adds “I like to stare into the abyss when it doesn’t stare back at me.” Abigail laughs so Will laughs too.

But he can’t always have this luxury, doesn’t he? Sometimes the abyss bites back, and he’s forced to return with broken teeth of it.

“Oh, and, thanks for your present,” Abigail adds after they stop giggling.

“My present?” Then he remembers that he brought her a magnetic glass after she was discharged from the hospital. That he threw away after he had left his appointment.

“Yeah, um, Hannibal gave it to me,” like she reads his mind, which is not impossible, as they both reside here.

“Of course he did,” Will says.

“I didn’t really use it, yet, but it’s pretty –oh! I caught something!” They both startle at to the waves around Abigail’s fly line.

“Do you want me to help–” Will starts as he reaches a hand but Abigail stops him.

“No, I got this!” He watches her hold onto the rod and turn the reel, her cheeks are all reddish. When the lure finally snaps out of the water they both stare at it agog.

“It’s just because you’re a bad fisher,” she teases. But her smile dies out when she sees what she caught. “Oh…” 

She reaches out to unwind the kitchen knife.

Reality’s imminent hand tightens around Will’s neck, he swallows as he watches her trembling hands.

“What will happen if I kill you before you kill me?” Abigail asks, holding onto the knife as her life depends on it. It’s so funny that Will decides honesty.

“I don’t know. I wake up or I just… die? The result is, either way, the same for you.” She nods quickly, a moment of dread, then she holds the knife to him. Will gently releases her hand from the knife. It’s lighter than he excepted. 

“Are you ready?”

“Are you ready?” she bites back. Will shakes his head to convey a pitiful ‘no’, he opens up his arms to make a place for her nonetheless Abigail, shaky, walks back to him, lets him hug her. He holds the knife toward her neck. Her bucket hat falls onto the ground. 

Poor Abigail, for that she has never left the edge of the knife.

“I’ve tried so hard, I’ve tried so hard,” she says. Her face is white and small and her lips trembling with fear, tears piling up around the corner of her beautiful eyes. “…to survive, I wanted to survive.”

“You were so strong.” He caresses her hair, unsure how to comfort her, if she can be comforted.

He wants Hannibal to show up across the stream, waving to them. Stop, Will, I’ve brought launch, let’s go over this hill and eat the food I’ve prepared for you. Then he can let go of Abigail and they can sit on the grass and they eat the lunch Hannibal prepared for them, sandwiches maybe, or something more exotic, of course. And they can forget reality, they can sit like a family, laugh and joke, and then Will can choke off Abigail’s ear and–

When he lifts his eyes to see a piece of his fantasies, all there standing is nothing but a stag. Its wicked antlers grandly and proudly rise towards the sky. It sniffs sharply, then snorts. It lowers its head and then pews the ground.

Like it wants to encourage him.

“Abigail Hobbs…” he breathes, then he hears her give a little chuckle.

“Abigail Graham?” she asks, quiver in her voice betrays cowardice.

Will smiles too, “Fisherman’s daughter.” 

“But I was never.”

“You could’ve, we could’ve.”

“There was a potential, weren’t there?”

“Hannibal murdered it.”

“Now you’re murdering it again.”

“There is no potential here,” he says.

And there is no constancy in dreams but he can’t stop himself from holding her tighter.

“Will you eat me?” Abigail asks. Before he can from an answer she adds, “You should. If anything goes to waste, then it’s just murder.”

“I will honor you.” Abigail nods, content.

It’s gonna be okay, he wants to say, I’ll make it all pass away. But he is not Garret Jacob Hobbs, so he just says “Goodbye, Abigail.”

“Goodbye, Will.” Abigail closes her eyes. He cuts her with a slow and deliberate movement. Blood pours everywhere. It pumps out with every heartbeat, gradually dying out. He holds her until her life forsakes her body entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> fishing terms go brr


End file.
